George by Nancy Warren

Author:Nancy Warren [Warren, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ambleside Publishing
Published: 2015-01-02T06:00:00+00:00

“I’m here in the Great Room of Hart House,” Janine said to the camera, “with the 19th Earl of Ponsford.” She talked about George, his ancestry, including his American mother, of course, and then turned to the earl.

George, she was pleased to note, looked relaxed and urbane. He’d probably learned interview protocol in nursery school.

The second camera was trained on George. After a few preliminaries, Janine turned to George.

“You studied to be an architect, I understand and, until recently, worked for a London firm.”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m still employed by the firm, but I’m on leave at the moment. Since losing my father last year, I’ve had to step in and run the estate.”

“That must be a lot of work.”

George had obviously read the questions carefully, for his answers were smooth. He gave enough detail about the estate, but not too much. So far the whole interview was going so well there’d be little editing needed.

Max left the monitor and moved around until she was standing behind Janine’s chair, but out of camera range. From here she had a clear view of George and had the leisure of staring at him without being thought crazy. Or crazy in love.

“You were named by Hello! Magazine, one of England’s twenty-five most eligible bachelors,” Janine said. “How did that make you feel?”

Whoa, Maxine thought. Good one, Suz. Hah, she was sleeping with one of England’s most eligible bachelors. How did she feel about that?

“Bashful. And a little nervous.” Here he gave a glance around as though being pursued by a bevy of female Hello! readers and that made Maxine smile. It would go over great in the broadcast.

“What do you look for in a woman? In a future countess?”

“Well, obviously, I’m looking for the woman first. We’ll worry about her being a countess later.” He paused, crossed one leg over the other. “What am I looking for in a woman? Humor, intelligence, someone I can laugh with and be myself with.” He glanced at Janine with his naughty boy flirty eyes. “I’ve always fancied the idea of someone who worked in television.”

Janine was an old pro, and she handled him perfectly. You could feel the warmth and slight older woman, younger man thing batted between them like a badminton birdie.

“Of course, any woman who married me would have to give up a lot. I’m running the estate now, and so I can’t go off and live in London, say, or Los Angeles. She’d have to be willing to live here a great deal of the time.”

L.A.? Odd he should mention L.A. He might have been talking about her. Janine waved her hand graciously at the antiques and magnificence of the Great Room and smiled. “I think a lot of young women would be willing to live in Hart House.”

“It’s not all garden parties and spreads in posh magazines,” he said. “This is a working estate. The livelihood of one hundred and eighty-two people depend on it, the village depends on it. Frankly, it’s a lot of work.

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